


Confessions

by truc



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bruce has a terrible sense of humor, Bruce isn't helping, Clark feels awful, Confession, Deepest and darkest secret, Does it count as Major Death if nobody dies in reality?, F/M, I'll include it just to be safe, Love, M/M, Marriage, Not a tragic ending?, Only in the simulations, Unrequited Love, death confession, dubious consent due to hidden feelings, not really major character death, simulations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-12 07:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20560595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truc/pseuds/truc
Summary: When the Justice League members are forced to reveal their deepest and darkest secret, Clark feels the need to explore possibilities with the Watchtower simulation program. The answers he gets may not be what he had hoped for.





	1. Secret

Clark had thought Bruce would be the one avoiding him, not the opposite. 

Strangely enough, although everyone else in the League acted weird with one another, Bruce was acting like his usual asshole personality.

At first, Clark reasoned Bruce needed space away from him. However, after the fourth time that week he flew away at Bruce's arrival, Clark had to confront reality.

He was avoiding Bruce. 

Clark knew confrontations were part of healthy coping mechanisms. None of them were doing it. Everything was festering under the thin veneer of functionality the League had layered over their issues. 

The mission, for all of its consequences, had started blandly enough. 

A nation needed the League to negotiate a treaty with its rival. It should have been easy; they had done the same hundreds of times. 

Of course, it had been a trap, one with the equivalent of alien magic; Diana's lasso couldn't counter its effects. 

Stuck in a yellowish alien spiderweb, they'd all been compelled to recount their deepest and darkest secret.

In the grand scheme of things, they had been lucky to escape before phase two of their enslavement: brainwashing. 

However, they still listened to each's deepest fear. 

Hal hadn't been proud to admit he missed being alcoholic; being unresponsible was liberating from the countless pressure he was facing. 

Dinah wanted to kill people again; she liked the powerful rush of crushing life away.

Diana missed being a Goddess. 

Ollie admitted he wanted to stop being a hero and to settle down in the countryside. He was tired.

Clark, well, there had been that one time he had been mind-controlled to rape someone. He'd locked that memory in the back of his mind. 

Bruce outlasted all others when it came to spilling his secret. He'd trembled under the compulsion, sweat soaking his cowl. 

Eventually, he had admitted that he'd been in love with Clark for the past twenty years. 

That was his deepest and darkest secret? Clark couldn't believe it.

When J'onn, hidden from the orange giant ant-like alien, had deactivated the magic trap, the tide had changed. 

Pushing back their issues to the back of their head, the Justice League trumped over their ambushers. 

The treaty was signed. 

The trip back had been awkward, to say the least. 

Now, basically everyone, except J'onn and Bruce, was avoiding each other. Not that those two were the most social members. 

Superman washed his face. Even with the Kryptonian genetics, Clark looked awful. 

He needed to speak with Bruce. 

Sighing, he went to catch his best friend updating the Watchtower's security's system. 

"Bruce?" 

The other man didn't look up from his tablet. "Code name." 

Clark gulped. "Why didn't you tell me you loved me?" 

Batman levelled a glare at him. "Nothing good would have come out of it."

"Is that why it was your deepest and darkest secret?"

Batman stoically looked at him, a slight twitch of his lips. "I knew you wouldn't react well to the news."

"Why not?" Clark pushed out, slight anger colouring his tone. 

Batman gestured at him as if he was an idiot. "You've been avoiding me for a week now."

"I haven't," Clark responded. He could feel the slanted eyebrow lifting under Batman's cowl. 

"Really."

"Really," Clark lied, knowing he was digging himself deeper. 

Batman leaned his head back, unimpressed. "You changed your seat at the meeting to be farther away from me; you've not been picking Jon at my house since you've returned; you lied to Alfred-and nobody in their right mind should do that- to get out of a Kent-Wayne dinner; you've flown from the Watchtower the four last times I've come here. Did I miss anything?" 

Clark rolled his eyes. This time, his tone is gentler. He still wanted Bruce to answer his question. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Batman clenched his jaw shut. "I just answered that question."

"It is awkward," Clark replied, "but it shouldn't last."

"Says who?" Bruce bit back.

His head tilted forward as he stepped in Clark's direction.

"You'll be making a big deal out of nothing. You'll insist on overanalyzing it and; you'll grow distant. Then, you'll use kid's gloves with me. I'll resent you. No matter how much you'll rationalize that drifting away from your old friends is normal, deep down, you'll know it's because I was stupid enough to confess. I can't force you to forget. Can you just stop thinking about it? It's not important, anyway."

"Twenty years," Clark rasped, "is a long time to love someone without telling them. I'm still in shock right now, but, you should have trusted me with the information. I've never wanted to hurt your feelings; they are important."

Bruce's glare intensified. "We both know you've never loved me. Why the hell should I weight you down with that information? It's on a need-to-know basis; you don't need to know. Now that you know do us both a favour and stop overanalyzing. This changes nothing except your reaction to me. Stop making a big deal."

"It is a big deal, you pig-headed-idiot! Maybe I should buy you a neon sign with the words 'Feelings are important' and drill it into your stupid batcomputer so you'll be forced to see it every day!" 

Bruce burned with fury as he opened his mouth. However, he calmed down enough to calmly state: "Being married with a child is a big deal. My feelings on the subject are not worth our friendship." Clark flinched at the reminder. Talk about awkward.

Once again, Bruce had won the verbal joust. 

With a satisfied expression, he warned, "Don't you dare touch my computer or I'll buy your favourite candymaker's business and force them to change their recipes."

"You wouldn't!" 

Bruce grinned. Try me, he seemed to say. 

Batman left Clark to fume alone. 

The reporter's teeth pressed together while he paced. 

Bruce may claim that Clark being married was the reason he hadn't confessed. However, Clark had been married thirteen years, not twenty.

If Bruce had confessed earlier, couldn't it have changed Clark's life? 

Clark stilled.

It would, wouldn't it?

He closed his eyes, uncertain whether he should delve into that abyss. 

Maybe Bruce was right. Forgetting this might be the best recourse. 

"We both know you've never loved me," came to Clark's mind. Bruce had seemed so sure.

Clark believed in fidelity; he believed in marriage. Now, even if he loved Bruce (and he didn't know if he did)... Wouldn't it complicate everything?

But Clark needed to know. 

He needed to know that in some alternative universe, in some divergent timeline, he would have ended up with Bruce after he was made aware of Bruce's feelings. 

It was a stupid need.

It was the opposite of 'stop thinking about it.' 

Despite Bruce's resentment to come, Clark felt the overwhelming urge to know.

Without conscious thought, Clark ended in front of the simulator. Usually, its use was reserved for battle readiness or preparation.

Being the Justice League's leader came with perks, Clark thought as he entered data into the computer. He made his way to a grey pod and laid in it. He closed the cover of the pod and heard the computer note, "Simulation ready."

"Initiate the first scenario," Clark ordered as he closed his eyes.


	2. Stained Wheat

_Scenario 1_

The chuckle surprised him.

How could Bruce laugh, now?

Heck, how was he even capable of laughing?

Clark was scared of touching him at all. It wouldn't take much to break him completely apart. Looking at the big picture of his friend's health was too distressing; zooming in to the details felt as hopeless.

"Bruce, do you hear me? Listen to my voice," Clark trembling voice ordered.

Bruce's lone functioning blue eye found him. It was unexpectedly sharp under the circumstances.

"Smallville," Bruce mumbled under his breath. Blood shone on his lips. Blood also dripped unto Clark's family's field, staining red the golden wheat Clark used to play in.

There was too much red everywhere in Clark's eyesight. It unexpectedly brought back imagery of poppy fields overtaking battlefields.

"Bruce?"

Bruce chortled again, eye still trained on Clark. The sound hurt Clark's ears.

"It's funny... I never thought I'd die in the sunlight."

"You're not dying, Bruce," Clark cried. The lifeblood dripping out of Bruce's body told another tale. Clark couldn't stop its ebb and flow.

Bruce winced as he tried to shake his head. His functioning eye gazed at the sun. "Smallville..."

"Not... Alone... In a Gotham warehouse... At night. Statistically, that was the... Most likely conclusion. I calculated that... a long time ago." He cackled again.

Clark fisted his friend's clothes, too frightened to reach for him with his mortal wounds. "Help's coming, Bruce. Stay awake. You're going to be just fine."

"It... Is ironic..." Bruce monologued, gaze still on the sun. "All this time... I focused on... My mission... Never... Told you... I loved you... Was sure... Gotham would... Take me away... Soon..."

"Bruce, you can't leave!" Clark begged through his tears. His Ma touched his elbow; reminding him of her supportive presence just beside him.

Where were they? Bruce wouldn't last long without help. J'onn was supposed to send a team; people who would know how to lift Bruce without killing him.

Bruce grimaced a smile and looked at Clark. "You... always... told... me... I should... laugh more..."

"Don't joke now," Clark pleaded. Powerlessness washed over him in a tidal wave movement.

Bruce coughed more blood. "Dying... Like... This... Is... Funny..."

"It's not!"

Ma sat beside Clark. "Any last words, Bruce?" her voice sang strong and gentle to her son's ear. Bruce's answer was a crude laugh. The ugly sound travelled far and wide in the open field.

Eventually, he laughed into stillness. His eye glazed over; his erratic heartbeat slowed. But his blood still seeped into the Kent's soil, contaminating Clark's safe place forever.

***

"Simulation has been completed, Superman," the emotionless voice informed him. Despite the knowledge that what he had seen was fake (and that Bruce was alive), Clark felt the unease settle in his guts.

Thankfully, he was not claustrophobic; the simulation pod was tight and uncomfortable for someone of his built.

"Any other scenarios available?"

"There are over 2, 456, 345 scenarios for the stipulations you've inputted."

Undeterred, the Kryptonian swallowed. "Initiate the next simulation."

"Initiating the next simulation."


	3. It's a Nice Day

_Scenario 237_

People were milling around Clark and Lois. In the past half-hour, Clark had shaken more hands than he'd ever had in a day. The members of the League were the worse offenders. Notably their very own speedster, who had, for apparently no reason, shaken hands with Clark on five different occasions.

Lois was radiant in a light blue dress; she was overflowing with gentle energy. Her laughs warmed Clark's heart; he was certain anyone would be willing to die for her smile.

"Congratulations," someone else told them. Clark couldn't stop smiling. Even though it was such a cliché thought, the reporter knew this was the best day of his life.

The hums of the surroundings disappeared during their first dance. How could he concentrate on anything but the feel of her hand in his and her hips under his other hand? She was his; he was hers...

Soon, the party was fully underway and Lois had been 'borrowed' by her friends for a few ridiculous dances. Clark was more than happy to watch the festivities unfold without him at its centre.

He heard a shuffle beside him and noticed his best man was now sitting beside him.

"Bruce, did you finally managed to clear up the fight in the restroom?" Clark had overheard someone discussing it not too long ago.

Bruce snorted. "Please, that was kindergarten stuff. My kids do a bigger commotion every morning."

A companionable silence grew between them as they both watched Lois twirling her niece in her arms.

"Oh, and Clark?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm in love with you," Bruce said in the same tone he used to comment on the weather.

"Mmm..." It took Clark a full minute to register what Bruce had just revealed. He swirled in his best friend's direction, "That's not funny."

Bruce, still as infuriatingly calm as ever, shrugged. "It's not meant to be."

Clark glanced back at a smiling Lois before returning his attention to his best friend. "Why the fudge would you say that at my wedding?"

Bruce smiled as if Clark had made a joke. He was probably keeping up appearances. "I figured it would be the best time to confess."

If Clark hadn't been so at peace before Bruce's insane conversation topic, he'd probably have yelled at his best friend. As it were, he only clenched his fists under the table and his jaw shut down. He needed to get drunk, but his physiology wouldn't let him. 'What a dilemma,' he glumly thought.

"This should be good," he muttered under his breath, jamming a glass in his mouth to stop the worse from stumbling out of it.

Bemusement appeared on Bruce's face. "It's the rational decision to make," Bruce stated. Clark frowned. Rational to confess on your best friend's wedding day...

In short, Bruce thoroughly lacked common sense.

"Really..." Clark sarcastically replied, eyes fixed on his newly wedded wife having the time of her life. It was too bad he wasn't doing the same.

Bruce ruined his enjoyment of this glorious moment, he bitterly resolved.

The best (asshole) man took a sip of his sparkly non-alcoholic drink. "Certainly. When else are we sure not to see each other for two solid weeks? We won't have to deal with drama during that time."

'Drama' was said with repugnance. Of course, Clark knew he meant 'feelings.'

"Drama," Clark repeated.

"Drama," Bruce confirmed. "Besides, you're conscious enough not to make a scene at your wedding. And, you certainly won't stupidly confront me before you'd think things through. If you think this through, you'll understand my rationale behind today's unpleasant necessity."

"Necessity..." Clark barked a bit more angrily than he should act at his wedding. Thankfully, nobody but his best man noticed.

He felt Bruce rolling his eyes beside him. Clark refused to look in his direction; if he saw him, he'd pick him by the collar and slam him in the nearest wall until Bruce got the message into his thick-headed head.

"It made strategic sense to disclose the information."

Again, with the impassionated love confession, Clark unkindly mused.

"Eventually, with the use of magic or technology or great observational skills, a villain might have used that information to get a reaction out of you; one that might endanger us. If you are aware of the dangerous piece of information, they lose their element of surprise. Therefore, strategically speaking, it is advantageous that you be aware of the information," Bruce calmly explained.

"At my wedding?" Clark thunderously asked.

Bruce shrugged (because, of course, he would). "Well, it is clear you've already made your choice, so, you won't lose your and everyone's time to ponder the ramifications of a non-possibility. You won't even have to 'act' normal around me for the next two weeks. People also expect your behaviour to change after your wedding, so you are granted leave from your normative behaviour without arousing untimely suspicion. Therefore, this moment was chosen to reduce affecting our teamwork dynamic in delicate and important situations and to avoid distasteful inquiries."

Clark could hear his teeth creak under his jaw's pressure.

At that moment, 'Don't murder your best friend at your wedding' could have been his mantra. The temptation to teach him a lesson was almost overwhelming his common sense.

Why couldn't he murder his friend at his wedding?!?

Clark was sure most people would understand him if he did.

"Clark?" Lois asked, frowning.

Clark looked at his lovely wife. Since when was she this close? And since when had Bruce gone away?

"Clark, are you okay?"

"I'm peachy."

Lois blinked. "Seriously, you look like you could punch someone through three walls and still need to pummel them into the ground."

He had married a truly perceptive woman...

Clark sighed. This was his wedding. He was supposed to be happy.

His eyes softened as he took her in. His wife.

Clark's hand dwarfed hers as he took it in his hand. "Shall we dance?"

"Are you okay?" Lois whispered.

He nodded. "I got a headache. It'll go away."

His wife still seemed worried. "You never get a headache except when it involves Kryptonite. Are you sure you don't want to see J'onn or Bruce on the subject?"

Clark groaned. "Trust me, that's completely uncalled for."

Their hands interlaced. "Shall we?" he whispered into her ear.

She smiled. "Tell me if it gets worse."

He couldn't stop his smile from widening. "Don't worry. It'll disappear."

And he knew it would.

He had better things to do than to think about his asshole of a best friend.

He hugged Lois to his chest and closed his eyes. Nothing else mattered.

***

"Simulation has been completed, Superman. Would you wish to start the next one, Superman?" "

Clark swore out loud. "Seriously, Bruce! My wedding? You had twenty years to confess and you chose my wedding evening?"

The computer repeated his question.

Clark gritted his teeth and his eyes gleamed in determination. There had to be better possibilities out there than the ones he had seen.

"Initiate the next simulation," he ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are wondering about the chapter's title, it was inspired by the 'White Wedding' song from Billy Idol. There's even a mention of Superman in the song, and, that, in itself, makes it fitting.


	4. The Missing Rainbow

_Scenario number 448_

The wet grass glittered under the sun. A breeze swayed the tree trunks in the distance. Insects still weren't coming out of their hiding place, but Clark could feel the restlessness in the air. This wasn't Kansas, yet, the same basic rules applied. Animals always waited a bit before coming out after the rain. Clark supposed they, except insects, feared the change more than the prick of raindrops.

Soon, the bravest would take a look outside; soon, their instincts would push them to seek food. Predators and preys would play their eternal game.

Clark hated that game.

His Ma and Pa had often explained how it was part of the circle of life. Life followed by death, on an endless loop.

"You can't change the nature of life," Ma once told him.

Clark sunk in the ground: not caring one bit for his Sunday clothes' appearance. He had long since learned dirt had its purpose. Clark didn't feel sullied by it clinging to his well-crafted clothes; if anything, the dirt was ruined by him.

His hands rubbed his cheeks, smearing dirt all over his face. He'd have to speak to Dick.

Dick would have yelled at Bruce by now and Bruce would have shut him out. Dick had probably texted Clark within the hour. The same endless repetition.

He'd known by heart the rhythm of this dance.

It was similar to the one he had with Bruce.

Clark chuckled wetly. Except Bruce had decided to put an end to all of this.

Maybe Clark should be glad they were finally putting an end to the travesty. Instead, he felt exhausted.

Crying in the rain hadn't helped his disposition.

It was time to return to the Manor; Dick deserved an explanation.

Clark looked at the magnificent hill and felt nothing.

He flew to the Manor's master's bedroom's window. He threw his clothes in the laundry box and chose a turtle-neck and jeans. He walked to the bathroom and almost stumbled into Bruce.

His husband had a towel riding low on his hips. His scars glistened like they always did after a shower; his hair plastered to his head. A fleeting expression of surprise and longing passed over his feature before melting in a hard glare at Clark. Bruce pushed him back and stomped ahead.

Clark, still naked, looked at him choose his clothing. "Have you spoken to Dick yet?" he asked after a few moments of weighty silence.

Bruce removed his towel and started dressing.

"Bruce."

Bruce brusquely closed the wardrobe, his back to Clark. "Yes. He ran to you again."

Clark waited for a beat. "You know I never meant to damage your relationship with your son."

Bruce leaned forward, one hand steadying him. "God, I hate you."

It hurt to hear him say that. Even if they both knew the person he hated was himself.

"I'm taking a shower and leaving," Clark reassured.

He could hear Bruce's heart grow erratic. Best to ignore it.

"I'll send Alfred and Dick my new address. You're always welcome to swing by or call me." And he would be.

"I won't," Bruce enunciated, aching sadness in his tone. It sounded like a solemn vow, alike in its finality to Batman's oath.

Clark winced. "Bruce..."

Bruce punched his wardrobe. "Don't you dare say you love me or you care for me." He was on the verge of crying, which was no small feat.

Clark could not find a word to help him. He also doubted his presence was helping him cope. Slowly, he went into the shower. He forced himself not to listen to Bruce.

Bruce was gone when he came out of the shower.

Clark checked his messages and saw that Dick had tried to call him a few times already. He pressed his second speed-dial number.

"Clark? Where are you?"

"I'm back at the Manor, Dick, but we should meet elsewhere."

"Our coffee shop?"

"A private setting would be better."

"After all of this, you still care about his reputation..."

Clark pinched his nose. "It's a lot more complicated than that."

"Come to my house then," Dick said after a small pause.

"Is Barbara in?"

"...She's not there. You don't even want her to hear?"

"I would rather not," Clark wryly answered. He was not looking forward to the conversation; he certainly didn't need an audience.

After swift goodbyes, Clark went to see Alfred.

The old man looked the same as always. "Master Clark. If you are looking for Master Bruce, I'm afraid he's gone out." He fled, Clark thought.

"That's okay, Alfred. I wanted to speak to you."

Alfred nodded. "We can talk now if you so wish."

Clark hesitated. "Aren't you mad at me?"

"Master Clark," the butler started, "Master Bruce is still alive; I have you to thank for that. That's all that matters to me."

Clark nodded. Alfred had always been the pragmatic one. "I'll send you my new address."

"Don't forget to visit me."

"I won't."

Clark flew to Dick's house and knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

Clark pushed in to see Dick absently munching his cereal.

"Clark, I can't believe him," an agitated Dick said after he swallowed his cereal.

"He cheated on you." The younger man seemed genuinely upset in a way Clark rarely ever saw.

"He did," Clark answered.

Dick gestured angrily. "It was all over the news and now you're divorcing. Why would he ruin the best thing that ever happened to him?!?"

Before Dick could add anything else, Clark interrupted. "Because it's not the best thing that happened to him."

Dick whipped at him. "What?"

Clark kept a stoic face.

"What do you mean you're not the best thing that happened to him? I've seen how you look at one another!"

"Have you?" Clark gently prodded.

"What do you mean by that? I've never seen someone look more smitten than Bruce does when he looks at you." Clark felt a tug of a familiar type of pain.

"And you look at him with so much fondness and love..."The wheels in Dick's mind started turning as Clark's words sank in. Dick paced. Clark could see the moment he understood the implications.

A pale-looking Dick beseeched him. "Please tell me you love him..."

"Dick, I've never been in love with him." He could feel the acid taste of his confession on his tongue.

Dick looked disconcerted. "Oh, fuck."

He had been completely blindsided by Clark's admission. His hands pressed into his hair, ruffling it.

"But... I thought... you always cared so much for one another... Why did you do that?" There was a plaintive quality to his question. Clark deserved it.

The living room had always been inviting, but now it loomed ominously at the edge of Clark's vision. He swallowed back his apprehensions; Dick had the right to know. Bruce wasn't about to tell him the truth. Not that Clark could blame him for it. Glass house and all.

"I've long known that Bruce had a crush on me. I accidentally overheard him talking about it to Alfred," Clark started.

"That just makes it worse!" Dick interrupted, face frozen between anger and confusion.

"It does," Clark admitted.

Dick sat on the counter, changing position every few seconds.

"Maybe you remember how Bruce started acting after Jason's death?"

Dick's angry gaze made him flinch.

"You missed some of it, but I guess you could agree he was self-destructive back then. Alfred and I tried everything we could to stop him from overworking to death. Nothing worked. I was getting desperate, truly desperate. I was sure it was only a question of hours or days before I'd lose my best friend. That's when I kissed him. That was the first time either Alfred or I managed to get him to sleep a full night since Jason's death."

"I can't believe you took advantage of him like that," Dick muttered.

Clark cleared his throat. "It worked when anything else failed. So, even though we didn't use the term 'dating' back then, that's what we did. I'd hold him in my arms. I'd kiss his forehead. I'd tell him over and over that I loved him. Sometimes, he'd even believed me."

"Why the hell did you lie to him? You didn't need to go that far. That's so messed up..." Dick's voice wavered.

Clark gave a sad smile. "What else could I do?"

"There are therapists for that! YOU didn't have to pretend you loved him!"

Clark nodded. "It was wrong of me. However, I refused to let him die. You may not believe me, but I've always cared a great deal for Bruce. Seeing him self-destruct was exceedingly hard. Lying in exchange for his life was worth it."

"Why keep the lie this long?" Dick forcefully snarled.

"I didn't mean for it to last this long," Clark stated. Before Dick could add anything, he continued, "I had meant to stop the relationship when he had healed enough... However, when he was just starting to properly grieve for Jason, Red Hood appeared."

Dick jumped off the counter and paced the floor.

"Bruce started falling apart again before my very eyes. I let him cling to me. That's when I moved in with him."

"That's when I learned you were together," Dick bit.

"You did. We went public soon after. After a while, Bruce started being more emotionally stable. He was even considering therapy."

"But Damian appeared, is that it?" The younger man commented, sarcastically.

"Damian appeared," Clark parroted back.

"Bruce lost his emotional stability?"

"No. He had better mechanisms to deal with him this time around. He wasn't self-destructive either."

"Then, why, Clark, why did you continue to lie? At that point, you were probably even sleeping with him and all. And you didn't love him," Dick gestured.

Clark swallowed. Sex had never been the issue: Bruce was objectively beautiful; he was gifted in that area and; Clark wanted to please him. It felt good to satisfy him.

"Even though we slept with one another, I could only view him as a friend. I felt guilty, you know, for doing that to him; for not falling in love with him. I tried. Because I could see he was falling ever more deeply in love with me..."

The part that hurt the most was when Bruce was vulnerable and sweet; his eyes and mouth would proclaim just how much he loved Clark. Those days, Clark despised himself for not being able to reciprocate the feelings.

"But you went on to marry him!" Dick was furious on Bruce's behalf.

"I did," Clark answered. "When Damian appeared, the social services doubted Bruce's capacity to raise another child after the last one had died in a foreign nation under very mysterious circumstances."

"He was never charged with anything."

Clark shook his head. "It didn't matter to them. They were going to get an in-depth look at his lifestyle, even wanted him to take weekly drug tests because of some persistent rumours. Thing is, Bruce has a lot to hide. He might be able to cheat or change the drug tests' results, however, the test administrator was bound to find out he was getting new injuries every week. There's a reason why Bruce doesn't often hang out with medical professionals outside of our profession. I could see Bruce wanted to get custody of Damian to save him from his mother's influence."

Dick paused his pacing. "You didn't..."

Clark nodded. "I asked him in marriage. I added my name on all of the custody and access applications. I wanted to adopt Damian Wayne as our child."

"You adopted Damian?!? How come I didn't know?" Dick looked positively frantic.

"Damian didn't want anyone to know he was legally my son. He was his biological mother's son. He chose to be in his father's custody, not in mine."

"You married Bruce to help him gain Damian's custody, but you didn't give him the memo you weren't in love with him."

Some part of Bruce probably knew Clark wasn't in love with him. Maybe Bruce didn't want to believe Clark would pretend to be in love with him. Maybe he preferred to trust his best friend and lover. Maybe he had been truly blinded by love.

None of those possibilities helped Clark sleep better at night.

Nobody, except Alfred and Bruce's subconscious, knew that Clark wasn't in love with Bruce.

The Justice League had made jokes long before they had gotten together. Diana gave them her blessings. His Ma had always thought Bruce suited him. Lois even gave Bruce the shovel talk.

They married. Damian lived with them. Jason and Dick slowly resumed contact with Bruce. Duke joined the family a few years later.

Clark focused on the truth behind the lie; he had a loving family and; his best friend wasn't self-destructive.

They were happy.

Or as close as they could be in the circumstances.

It fell into a routine that nobody questioned. Batman and Superman were busy. So were Clark and Bruce.

Lying flowed easier.

"I married him without telling him I wasn't in love with him. I had always wanted a big family and he gave me one. I wasn't unhappy."

Dick shook his head. "When did he figure it out?"

Things started to change between them when Damian and Duke attended University and there were no more distractions at home. When they started to spend more time as a couple and less as a family, the lie quickly fell apart.

"I'm not exactly sure," Clark answered. He wasn't ready to speak about their slow falling out.

They fought. But neither left.

This was the mess Clark had chosen; he had meant his 'until death does us part'. Other than death, he'd only leave if Bruce asked him to.

Bruce couldn't bear to be separated from the man he loved more than life itself. He had also meant his vow. As proud as Bruce was, he was too enamoured with Clark to call it quits.

For years after, they continued their lives together even if they stopped sleeping in the same room.

Occasionally, they'd fight and fell in bed, hanging to one another as if they were each other's most precious possession. Clark had grown used to cuddling his best friend and; he had always enjoyed that part of their relationship. He missed the warm body at his side.

"Are you sure you aren't in love with him? That you're asexual and you didn't realize it?" Dick pleaded.

"I'm not."

Everything came to head when Clark fell in love with someone else. And Bruce noticed it before Clark did.

Then, Bruce had cheated (could it even be called that?) on Clark. It was probably a desperate bid to ascertain if Clark truly wasn't in love with him.

As pained as Clark was at Bruce's self-destructiveness, he wasn't jealous. He saw Bruce crumbling at the realization.

They hadn't anything left to fight over.

Days after, at breakfast, Bruce slammed a separation agreement on the table. Clark read it through and signed it with Alfred as his witness.

Clark had left Alfred the task of giving the signed agreement to Bruce.

He had flown to the other side of the planet to cry in the rain.

"You're a jerk," Dick mouthed.

Clark wished the insult could make the guilt fade away.

"What are the chances he's ever going to believe someone can be in love with him? Did you ever think about that when you started to lie to him? He'll always think it's pity," Dick asked, more indignant than ever.

"It's not pity. It's never been about pity," Clark mildly defended. He hesitated. "Take care of him, will you?"

Dick's hard gaze fell on him. For a second, he looked like Robin had, eons ago, when he had thought Superman was going to arrest Batman; protectiveness on display and no pity in his eyes. Clark felt the icy and uncharacteristic silence linger between them.

Swallowing, Clark walked outside, thinking of all the people he'd hurt along the way.

***

"Stimulation has been completed. Would you wish to start the next one, Superman?"

Clark looked at the window in the pod he was placed in. "Yes."

"Overwrite command," another voice ordered.

"Administrator password?"

"Beta-908," Bruce replied.

"Overwrite confirmed," the computer voice answered.

Superman angrily opened the pod. "What are you doing? These are my stimulations."

Batman crossed his arms. "Did you find a satisfactory result?"

Superman thought back to each of the scenarios; none had been pleasant to live through.

"No."

"There's your answer. Stop hogging the stimulation program. These are primarily used for combat training, not childish arguments." Batman was as emphatic as always.

Superman brushed his hair. "You should have told me."

Batman raised one eyebrow. "You just saw that it wouldn't have helped anything."

Superman shook his head. "None of those situations would have arisen. Although, nice job confessing your feelings at my wedding..."

"Would you let it alone now? Forget I ever told you," Bruce grimly asked.

Superman almost said yes. Almost admitted defeat.

But he remembered an important question.

"What kind of data was inputted in the computer to generate the simulations?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) In case you're wondering where Tim was in this story; he never became a vigilante because Clark basically took over his reason for becoming Robin.
> 
> 2) This was the first simulation written and the saddest one in my opinion. (Don't worry, next chapter is nowhere as bleak as this one.)


	5. Idiots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings.

Bruce refused to answer, which in itself was an answer.

Superman stood. "You were the one who chose which data to incorporate, weren't you? How did you ever conclude I could never fall in love with you?"

"I based it on the data compiled in the 52 worlds, " Batman gritted out.

Ah. Of course.

Clark carded a hand in his hair. "Did you decide that I didn't love you because we weren't together in any of the other worlds?"

Silence.

"Did it ever occur to you that this might be the only world you've been in love with me? Or that this is the first world in which you've confessed your feelings to me? That, maybe, in the other worlds, I was the one who was rejected?"

Batman snorted. "You've ended with a version of Lois more often than not. We never even dated in those other worlds. I'd say there are some universal constants at play."

Superman's frustration had welled up; it had been waiting for the perfectly ridiculous Bruce comment to explode.

"So, your excuse for not telling me you were in love with me for the past twenty years was that you knew I'd never love you back. Have you considered, I don't know... ASKING ME ABOUT IT?"

Batman blinked at him.

Wasn't he supposed to be the GREATEST detective on Earth?

Superman crossed his arms threateningly. "Well?"

Batman cautiously cleared his throat and slanted one eyebrow. "Are you in love with me?"

Good! Bruce was finally being honest and communicative.

Except... how was Clark supposed to answer the question? He had backed himself into a corner.

He opened his mouth and closed it two times.

Bruce's eyebrow twitched further upward. Even his lips twisted in an ironic smile.

His best friend might be a jerk, yet he still deserved the truth. When Bruce had confessed his love amongst the alien spiderweb, Clark's heart had seized in surprise. Breathless, he'd known even back then the truth, even if he hadn't wanted to acknowledge it; enlightened in love so tumultuous he'd almost forgotten good sense, Clark had struggled to avoid Bruce for the week after.

"Yes," Clark admitted.

Bruce stared at him, floundering dumbly.

"That's your reaction?" the reporter snarked, annoyed. "Dumb shock? Even the World's greatest detective can be stuck speechless?"

A piercing glare was sent his way. "I suppose you got it all figured out then."

Well... Not exactly.

The ring on Clark's finger hadn't vanished.

But Clark no longer had the thought that, in some universe, in another timeline, they would have been happily together till the end of time. Despite the slanted vision in the possibilities, Clark couldn't count on those worlds. In most of them, Clark had only learned of Bruce's feelings at either or both of their deaths. In others, they'd drifted apart- as Bruce had feared. Others depicted either of them resenting the other for how Bruce had revealed his feelings, either by magic or technology (which was the second-biggest portion of the pie chart after the death confessions). Bruce never responded well to the loss of control, especially when it came to his feelings. In others still, Clark could never reciprocate Bruce's feelings. Maybe these possibilities were born of the Bat's irrational fears and were unfounded in this reality.

However, could Clark know that he'd fallen in love with the other Bruces? Maybe this path was the only one of which lead him to reciprocated feelings. Because Clark had fallen in love with this Bat, precisely a week ago in this timeline.

All in all, Clark was unbelievably lucky. He gazed at his best friend beside him; his attention instantly zooming in the soft heartbeats' thuds. 

'The only thing you had at death was what you had given in life.' 

And love was the greatest gift ever. One that Bruce had given him.

He felt his heart flutter at the thought. Love made things real. Nothing really existed without it.

"What are you smiling about?" Bruce's slightly nervous voice asked. Clark hadn't even realized he'd been smiling.

"I'm just thinking that we're lucky neither of us died for either of us to realize the other's feelings. Your simulations are a tad too macabre if you ask me; in more than fifty percent of the simulation I've experienced, either both of us or one of us died," Clark teased.

Bruce nodded. "Overall, the statistics are 68.9%."

Clark blinked. "Did you experience all the simulations?"

"Compiling data is my specialty," Bruce defensively responded.

Clark rolled his eyes.

For a moment, they were silent.

"What's our next step to minimize the damages?" Bruce asked, a nervous edge to his question.

Clark shrugged. "I have an interesting conversation to have with my wife."

"You're going to tell your wife I want to bone you?" Bruce snarked, an apprehensive tension still in his frame.

Clark clapped Bruce's back and slowly pushed him to the exit. "Don't be crass. If that were the case, Lois would buy a dildo and a cushion; put a bow on them and give them to you. She would expect you to thank her for that."

Agreeing with Clark's evaluation of his wife's reaction, Bruce laughed, tension bleeding from his shoulders. Clark's warmth at his side reassured him they wouldn't drift apart. If anything, this lack of secrecy would deepen their bond and their mutual trust. It felt as vertiginous as stepping on air on a high raise without any plans to stop the fall.

Bruce was not worried.

Clark was great at catching falling people.

"What were the weirdest simulations you've experienced?" Clark breathed near Bruce's ear. The vigilante had to suppress a shiver.

"Mmm... The weirdest one was the one in which you were infected with an alien flu and instead of experiencing harmless flatulence, you transformed into an egg-laying-zombiefied-lizard-man."

Clark grimaced. "You're kidding..."

"Not one bit."

An impartial observer located in the simulation room wouldn't have been able to decide who had made the first move. Somehow, they had linked one hand together in one smooth movement. However, an observant person would have been able to correctly interpret the slight angling of their bodies to one another. Or the tint of red on their cheeks.

"Did you confess in that world?" Clark asked in a soft voice that had nothing to do with the absurd conversation.

"Kryptonite, magic, red solar energy and technology didn't work on egg-laying-zombified-lizard-man-you. I figured I might as well try appealing to your emotions," Bruce casually explained as his shoulder touched Clark. They walked in the corridor, disappearing from the simulation's room's sight. 

"So, you decided to confess? How did that go?" Clark asked, amused.

"Got trampled to death." 

Clark's chuckle in the hallway echoed into the simulation room. 

"You know, Clark," Bruce could be heard saying, "I've always asked myself which conspiration theorist would have won that bet: the one who believed in lizard people invading the Earth; the one who believed Superman would take over; or the one who believed the zombies would conquer us."

"Wouldn't they all be dead anyway?"

"But who would get the bragging rights?" Bruce's voice dimmed in the hallway.

Even a casual observer located in the simulation room straining for more wouldn't have heard the answer. Only the humming mechanical systems echoed in the room. The simulator laid in the center of the room. If it had emotions, it might have felt smug at its contribution towards the simple handholding. 

Although it might never get farther than that, right now, that handholding meant everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and the comments.


End file.
